Red Hourglass

by Scarlet Risqué

  * * *

  I was a bit nervous around Mimi after the attack, but she intrigued me. She was either in full control and unbeatable, or out of control like the berserkers I was reading about in history class.

  After our next training session, I asked her if she wanted to have lunch in the cafeteria. We got our food and sat down at a table by a window.

  “Why is the sky blue?” Mimi asked, picking up her sandwich and looking out the window. Her sandwich was the size of her face.

  “I don’t know.” The childlike question from this tiny killer whale made me more interested in her. I wanted to understand her like a specimen. “Why do you ask?”

  “The sky and Earth separate humans from immortality. We’re only transient beings on this plane of existence.” Mimi sounded very Zen-like as she nibbled on her giant sandwich. “If we ever hope to understand more … about reality … we need to ask questions.”

  I contemplated what she said. It sounded similar to something I’d read about Buddhism or Taoism. I figured she must’ve been reading too many books about Eastern metaphysics.

  “Well, the sky is blue because it’s blue,” I said matter-of-factly. “We’re here because we’re here. Things are always changing, and it just doesn’t matter anyway. So why ask?”

  “Out of all the animals, only humans have the self-awareness to question things. That’s why we must keep asking.”

  She was quite a thinker, very philosophical, like a wise old sage. I had to give her that. I took a bite from the apple on my lunch tray.

  “How long do you think it will take us to graduate?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. … A few years, maybe? Or when an assignment comes?”

  “Maybe we’re too young to go on missions now.”

  “How old are you?” asked Mimi.

  “Seventeen. You?”

  “The same. I only got here a few months before you did. We’ll reach the age of majority when we’re eighteen … that’s what one of my teachers called it … and then we can sign legal documents. But we won’t be able to drink alcohol until we’re twenty-one. I think agents have to be able to go into bars and stuff.”

  “That makes sense. Anyway, I suppose we still have a lot to learn before we’re ready to be agents. So in one, two, three,” I was counting with my fingers, “four … well, in three and three-quarters years I’ll be able to drink.”

  “I don’t ever want to leave this place.” Mimi looked down at her plate.

  “Why not?”

  “This is my home now. The world outside is hard … and cruel.”

  “Everyone has to leave home one day. When I finally left mine, it was the happiest day of my life.” I recalled being behind Max on his motorcycle, riding along the winding country roads. I loved my freedom.

  “I don’t like killing.” Mimi put down her sandwich.

  “Sometimes it’s the only solution. Bad people make the world uglier than it has to be. When we’re agents, we’ll be protecting the weak and helpless. And we both know that’s going to mean killing people who deserve to die.”

  “Killing is bad,” said Mimi, chewing on her fingernails.

  “Not always. Think about it. Not killing can be bad too.” I was trying to reassure her, but no one would ever convince me that my stepfather didn’t deserve to die.

  “According to Buddhism, we should only defend ourselves, not kill.”

  “Killing is part of self-defense. Sometimes it’s kill or be killed. Do you want to be killed?!”

  “No,” said Mimi. She started picking at her sandwich as she digested my words. “I guess I’d have to kill anyone who was trying to hurt us.”

  I couldn’t believe that I’d managed to convince Mimi that killing was the solution. I must be learning something in that negotiation class. I smiled to myself.

  “Uh oh,” I said, “I’m late for the Art of Negotiation. I’ve gotta run. See you in yoga class tomorrow.”

  “See you,” said Mimi as she stared up at the ceiling.

  Ms. Jefferson

  I ran up to the fourth floor and tried to slip quietly into room 401.

  “Nice of you to join us, Janet,” said Ms. Jefferson. She was standing next to a whiteboard in the front of the room, tapping her dry-erase marker on her hand.

  “Sorry,” I said. I got a huge whiff of perfume as I walked by Ms. Jefferson and went to a desk at the back of the class.

  She was a tall blond woman with a supermodel body. She could’ve stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine.

  “Janet, this isn’t the first time you’ve been late. If you want to stay in this class, it won’t happen again.”

  “Yes Ms. Jefferson.”

  “Well, class, let’s continue. As we’ve been discussing this semester, negotiation is about getting the best you can out of a deal. In order to negotiate effectively, you have to know what you want out of the deal in advance. In other words, you have to set goals for your negotiations before you start.” Ms. Jefferson wrote “GOALS” on the whiteboard with her black marker. “Tell me class, what are some goals that we can negotiate for?”

  “Money,” said a student.

  “Good,” said Ms. Jefferson. “We negotiate with our bosses for more money. What else?”

  “Fame,” said another student.

  “Yes. People negotiate with the public for fame and glory. In exchange for their attention and affection, you have to be a worthy performer. And in order to keep their attention, you need to keep performing and treat your audience with respect.”

  “What about love?” asked another student. “How do we negotiate for that?”

  “Ah, love,” smiled Ms. Jefferson. “This is perhaps the one thing everyone hopes for. But in order to get love, we have to give it freely.”

  “Why?” the student asked.

  “Love is either there or not. When we’re talking about love between two people, it’s more of an exchange than a negotiation per se. Both parties must be willing to give it freely. Whether we’re talking about love between friends, romantic partners, a parent and child, or whomever, there needs to be a two-way street that allows love to flow freely in both directions. That’s the best way to keep the love we find.” Ms. Jefferson put her marker on the ledge of the whiteboard and gave us a handout. “Now, let’s do some role-playing. Pair up and work through the examples on the sheet. Switch roles after each scenario so that everyone negotiates from both strong and weak positions.”

  After class, I pondered what Ms. Jefferson said about love as I strolled through the hall. Most people want more love, but they don’t usually give it freely.

  I heard heels trotting up behind me. Ms. Jefferson passed me in a hurry, giving me another whiff of her strong perfume. I looked at my watch. I was late again. I rushed down the stairs to my next class.

  * * *

  I went back to my room after dinner. As I was sitting at my desk doing homework, I glanced out the window. There was a long line of black limos snaking up to the mansion. I figured that the White family was having a party.

  I curled up on my chaise longue to do my reading, but I couldn’t help thinking about Ms. Jefferson. She looked like she spent most of her free time working on her appearance. There was no ring on her ring finger, so I assumed she was single. Had Ms. Jefferson successfully negotiated for everything she wanted out of life? With her looks and figure, why was she a teacher? Was she a former agent? I couldn’t wait for my twenty-first birthday so I could go on my first mission.

  I was sore from training and decided to take a shower before I went to sleep. As I fell into my comfy bed I hoped, like Mimi, never to leave this place—at least not for good.

  * * *

  There was a new girl in yoga class. She was wearing a light-green top and black yoga pants on her long, lean body. She had blond hair and an infectious smile. There was something fairy-like about her. It was as if she would grant three wishes and then magically float away on a puff of wind.

  Mimi was also
in the class. She was humming to herself as we did the poses.

  Yoga was a relief from intense martial arts training. The stretching and breathing were exactly what my body needed to heal. I decided to integrate some of the exercises into my daily routine.

  “Hi, I’m Janet,” I said to the new girl after class. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”

  “Oh, you’re the Red Hourglass! I heard my mom talking about you. My name’s Vanus.”

  “Your mother?”

  “Yes, the White Queen is my dearest mother.”

  The White Princess was here before me. Unlike her mother, she was a free-spirited bohemian green fairy. I felt a twinge of envy.

  “Are you going to the cafeteria?” I asked.

  “No. I have to meet Ms. Jefferson for my private lessons.”

  “How long have you been taking private lessons with her?”

  “About a year now. She’s an excellent teacher … a great asset,” said Vanus. “Today’s session will be the last one this week. Her boyfriend picks her up every Friday morning. She spends the weekends with him.”

  “She has a boyfriend?”

  “Yeah. I’ve seen him waiting for her in his car.” Vanus leaned over and whispered in my ear, “He drives a big black Maserati.”

  “Well, Ms. Jefferson’s definitely practicing the art of negotiation with her boyfriend.”

  “She’s certainty got it right.” Vanus’s eyes twinkled and a big fairy smile spread across her face. “I’m off now. See you later.” She glided out the door.

  I was even more curious about Ms. Jefferson now. A swarm of questions was buzzing through my mind. How did she end up at the Academy? What motivates her to share her knowledge with us? Does she want to marry her boyfriend? I wanted to see her boyfriend and his fancy car. I wanted to know where they went and what they did.

  Mimi tapped me on the shoulder. “I’m hungry.”

  “Me too. Let’s go eat.” My stomach was growling and I nuzzled Mimi’s hair as we walked to the cafeteria.

  Just as we sat down with our food, I heard the sound of plates smashing on the floor. I turned around.

  An agent had swept a stack of clean plates off the end of the buffet. She pushed her way through the crowded cafeteria and jumped onto a table in the middle of the room.

  “I’ve killed the traitor Raven! I have her tattoo!” She was holding a bloody, fist-sized patch of skin between her fingers.

  The students gasped as she turned in a circle. She made sure that everyone got a good look at the black raven tattoo.

  “Raven tried to run away with her target-cum-lover! I got her! I got her good! Be loyal to the White Queen … or else!” The agent began cackling like a mad woman and pulling out her hair.

  Four agents jumped on the table and restrained her. She was still laughing as they carried her away, leaving fistfuls of hair on the table.

  Her maniacal laughter sent tingles through my skin. “Mimi, was Raven the dark-haired senior who always wore black dresses?”

  “Yeah”

  “And who was that?”

  “Misty. She was Raven’s best friend.”

  “My God. She killed her best friend?” I was shocked.

  “It looks like it, but she probably had no choice,” said Mimi. “Traitors aren’t tolerated. The White Queen will put up with a lot, but you better not betray her … if you want to live.”

  “But to kill someone, just because they fall in love and want to run away? Isn’t that a bit harsh?”

  “Raven had a job to do. We only target bad people. She shouldn’t have fallen in love with her target.”

  “But Misty was her best friend. And aren’t you against killing unless someone’s being hurt?”

  “Betraying the White Queen hurts her, and rules are rules,” said Mimi. “We only serve the White Queen.”

  “Yeah.”

  That’s scary. Falling in love can mean betraying the White Queen … and death by your sister.

  Unofficial Mission

  The next morning, I was still curious about Ms. Jefferson. I wanted to know what she and her boyfriend got up to. And after what happened to Raven, I wanted to know if I could escape if I had to. I decided to take a motorcycle and find out.

  I snuck into the garage before breakfast and wheeled out a Yamaha R25. When I was sure I was alone, I grabbed a helmet and started the bike. I drove around to the side of the Academy and waited.

  Ms. Jefferson got into the black Maserati and I followed it out the gates. The car turned left but I turned right. I rode for about half a mile before doing a U-turn and almost catching up to them. I stayed back about a quarter mile, but I didn’t let them out of my sight.

  They drove to a huge house that I assumed belonged to Ms. Jefferson’s boyfriend. I parked across the street as the car pulled into the garage. I made sure they couldn’t see me from the house. A few minutes later, Ms. Jefferson’s boyfriend closed the curtains in one of the upstairs windows.

  I imagined what they were doing behind the closed curtains. I loved the thrill of seeing but being unseen. Maybe I was born to be an agent.

  * * *

  I was back at the Academy by five that evening. The security guards stopped me and made me get off the bike. They searched me thoroughly.

  “You’re in hot water young lady,” said one of the guards as the gates opened.

  Simone, the automotive teacher, was waiting for me in the garage. “How dare you leave the grounds without permission!” She yanked off my helmet. “The White Queen knows people!” Simone’s face was as red as her dyed hair and spit was flying out of her mouth. “She’s going to lock you up for good for trying to escape!”

  “I didn’t escape. I just wanted to go for a ride. I miss riding, feeling the wind. I’m really sorry.”

  “Shut it girl. If I were the White Queen I’d have you flogged in front of all the students. Come on. I’m taking you to her office.”

  What if the White Queen thinks I betrayed her?

  Simone grabbed me by the arm. She marched me over to the mansion and stomped up the white marble stairs. Simone walked into the secretary’s small office and pushed open the hidden door.

  The White Queen was reclining in her white chaise longue, admiring her moonstone ring. “Thank you, Simone. You can leave us.” She continued looking at her ring, moving it around so that the light hit it from different angles. “My dearest Janet, while I do love your spirit, you know I can’t condone what you’ve done. We were worried sick when we couldn’t find you. Fortunately, the CCTV cameras at the gate proved that you hadn’t been abducted. But tell me, why in the world did you follow Ms. Jefferson?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I’d just planned to go for a quick motorcycle ride. But then I saw Ms. Jefferson get in her boyfriend’s car and I thought it would be fun to follow them. I wanted to know what it feels like to be on a mission.”

  “Ah, that’s excusable. I had faith that my Red Hourglass wouldn’t run away from me, but I’m glad that you returned home.”

  “I’m sorry Mama. I wasn’t thinking. I would never leave you.”

  “I know my darling. Ah, the folly of youth.” The White Queen puffed up as she took a deep breath. “Next time you want to go for a ride, ask Simone. And promise that you’ll talk to me before assigning yourself more missions.”

  “I promise,” I said.

  “Very well, but I still have to punish you. There are consequences for impudence. What do you think would be a fair punishment?”

  “I could scrub the grease stains off the garage floor. It would take me all weekend … at least.”

  “Fine. I’ll let Simone know that you’ll be at the garage after breakfast tomorrow morning. Make sure to complain about your punishment at dinner. We can’t let anyone think that you’ve gotten away with this scot-free. Now, you must be starving. Go feed yourself.”

  “Yes Mama. Thank you.”

  My stomach rumbled. The White Queen had given me a safe home
where I was looked after. She truly was my new mother and I would never leave her. I couldn’t wait to be an agent, to be a force for good in the world.

  * * *

  Over the next three and three-quarters years, I completed my education and agent training. We were coached in martial arts, but my love of blades was firmly entrenched by then. I chose knife fighting as my specialty. I’d taken some kendo and fencing classes, but I much preferred the intimacy of smaller blades. Nothing beat being close to a target.

  My knife coach was a former military officer. He drilled it into our heads that a second makes all the difference between life and death in a knife fight. We practiced deploying our blades in combat situations for twenty minutes at the start of each class. Once I’d mastered whipping a dagger out of a sheath around my shoulder or leg, I practiced getting my switchblade out of the sole of my stiletto and flicking it open in less than a second. I worked hard to master knife skills, and I was confident that my blades would never let me down.

  I felt a strong bond with all my sisters by the time I graduated, but Mimi and Vanus were special. We were all around the same age, and we’d helped each other with everything. I trusted them with my life. I’d even told them about my missing mother. As a special graduation gift, the White Queen promised me that she’d do her best to find out if my real mother was dead or alive.

  Mr. Cheap Poker

  One of my most memorable solo assignments was a jerk I called Mr. Cheap Poker. I spent weeks playing poker in underground clubs to prepare. I learned that I was very skilled at manipulating hearts to get what I wanted, and I loved the thrill of winning. The queen of hearts became my favorite card.

  I was the only lady on the table most of the time. I played with huge rolls of bills, no chips. The men always tried to bluff, but I’d usually figure them out and win the round. They also tried all sorts of funny business to get me in bed. I’d humor them while we were at the table so I could take all their cash, but I never slept with any of them.